


The Sex Has Made Me Stupid

by Jemzamia



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemzamia/pseuds/Jemzamia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter finds himself confronted and trapped by Sylar once again, but things take an unusual turn</p><p>Written as a part of comment_fic</p><p>Written in 2009 and imported from my Livejournal</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sex Has Made Me Stupid

_“When he’s up against the wall, another act of aggression, I want you on the floor, get down girl!”- The Sex Has Made Me Stupid by Robots In Disguise._

Peter realized that this had been a trap from the moment he felt his presence behind him. He turned around swiftly, his suspicions confirmed as the dark haired man stood firmly before him, wearing a pleased grin, darkened by the predatory look in his eyes.   
“Sylar,”  
“You know…” Sylar began, taking slow, intimidating steps forward whilst running his fingers along the nearby table, “the amount of times you've found yourself stuck in a room with me is getting difficult to count now. Some people might think you actually enjoy getting beaten up by me.”  
“Go to hell!” Peter spat. Rage was rattling through his body, ignited by how sick and twisted he found Sylar’s malicious cheeriness.   
“Funny. That’s just where I’m going to send you,” Sylar grinned, instantly flicking his fingers, sending Peter crashing hard into the wall, making him cry out with a winded groan. Biting his lip hard, eyes screwed shut; Peter wriggled against the pain and the invisible binds that pinned him still. After realizing it was futile, like every other past experience with Sylar, he opened his eyes, his line of vision slightly obstructed by the jet black curtain of his fringe, but the strong, prominent features of Sylar’ face remained visible, inches away from Peter’s own. The look in Sylar’s eyes was the same yet slightly different, as if fragmented, the dark mixed with something colourful but equally primitive. They ran up and down Peter’s body, before intently studying his face with a disturbing curiosity. Peter immediately felt drawn to it, despite his better judgement, screaming out to implore him to do the opposite.

With a frustrated growl, their lips clashed against together, hard and animalistic, nipping and biting at each other. Sylar’s hands roamed free across Peter’s body while he remained plastered to the wall, stationary. Tugging and tearing his clothing, due to his own desire, Sylar was deaf to Peter’s pleas of “let me come closer” due to his own desire. It had hijacked his brain, destroying all coherent thought and master plans about obtaining powers and eliminating enemies. Sylar knew that he would kick himself about this later, about the fact that he had lost control, that he had forgotten how important the man’s power was, and finally that he had let Peter Petrelli slip through his fingers once again, only this time it was due to his own selfish want. 

Self-annoyance wasn't the focus of Sylar’s attention right now though; stripping Peter bare, licking, and biting and marking the revealed flesh before his eyes was. Writhing and panting beneath his hungry mouth, feeling Peter’s blood thunder through his veins like a deadly drug. It made Sylar want more, regardless of the consequences, repercussions or any other event that followed this. He was too drunk on his own lust, stupid even. Springing to his feet, Sylar stared Peter intently in the eye as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, watching his pupils dilate even more, till they were almost black. He teased him further; knowing that the agonizing anticipation was tearing Peter’s will part, by removing his jeans and boxers smoothly together. When the last remnant of clothing finally hit the floor, Sylar telekinetically flung Peter to the floor, secretly delighting in the luscious moan of pain, before straddling him and beginning to attack at Peter’s lips once again.  
“You’re going to be here for a while Petrelli,” Sylar growled, “But it’s your own fault. You shouldn't be so keen!”  
Peter only got the first phrase of a retort out into the air before shaking it with a loud moan as Sylar lowered himself onto him.


End file.
